Of Empty Hearts and Homes
by OhMyLeppy
Summary: Modern!AU: Jack is a homeless boy, having been forced into running away from his abusive parent. Pitch is a famous horror movie producer, aptly named the Nightmare King. But when he saves into an injured Jack, he has to let the boy into his home, letting him stay not only to rest, but also to secretly please the public. He certainly didn't plan on actually liking the boy. W: Abuse.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: The Cold can be Dangerous**

**AN: Heyo, I co-wrote this story with RandomTendancies63 ages ago! She wrote the parts from Pitch's point of view, and I wrotethe things to do with Jack.**

"Come on, Mama!" Jack gurgled happily. "Let's go play outside!" He struggled with his boot laces, and eventually his mother bent to help the little six year old.

"Are you sure? It's awfully cold out there. You might get sick." his mother, Angeline, said as she straightened back up. She sighed when she heard a little cry from the cot in the other room. "Look's like your sister is up," she muttered. That baby never seemed to sleep, it was constantly waking her and her husband, Roderick, up so that they were both tired the next day.

"Okay, up you get, Pippa, it seems that someone doesn't want their afternoon nap," she said as she picked her daughter up. For a one year old, she sure could make noise. Angeline carried her back to the living room, ignoring Pippa as she played with her short, brown hair.

"Come on, come on! Let's go already!" Jack jumped up and down, incredibly impatient. He couldn't wait until he got to play in the snow; it was his favorite thing to do! He loved making snowmen, having snowball fights, making snow forts and just the snow itself.

"I still think you'll get sick," Angeline warned.

"Oh, the boy will be fine!" her husband exclaimed, as he strode into the room. Roderick was a tall man with the build of a lumberjack. He had hands so large that they looked like they could snap a tree trunk in two. Despite his looks though, he was a gentle man with a great sense of humor. He loved to help people, and as a mechanic, he was able to do so. Well, he helped their cars. But one thing that you never do is hurt his family. Ever.

"He was practically born of snow, he loves it so much!"

"Yes," Angeline frowned. "But that won't help him when he catches pneumonia."

"Oh, he'll be fine. Besides, I have something for him."

"Really?" Jack's whole face lit up. "What is it? Tell me! Tell me!"

Roderick grinned and pulled a package out from behind his back. "Here you go."

Jack all but snatched it from him and tore it open, paper flying everywhere. His smile fell, when he found what was in it. A jumper. Just a green jumper. "Oh... thanks."

Roderick grinned. "I figured you'd like it."

Angeline sympathized with her son. She knew from experience that clothes weren't exactly the greatest gift when you're a child. She

gently took it from Jack and held it up. "It's huge," she stated.

Roderick looked slightly embarrassed. "Well, yeah, it is. He probably won't fit into it for a while...Or maybe a few years. Okay, when he's a teenager. But I had to get it for him! It's a great color for him, more or less. Imagine how cute he would look, all bundled up in that jumper."

Angeline shook her head and set the jumper down on the couch. Her husband definitely was an impulse buyer.

"Mama, look at me." Jack was warming up to this jumper, it was so soft on the inside. And green was his second favorite color!

His mother turned and struggled not to laugh as she watched Jack run around the room flapping his arms, using the excess fabric as wings. Since the jumper was so long, the hem of it was almost at his ankles, and he ended up tripping twice.

Roderick gave a booming laugh. "Alright, come on you little frost sprite, let's go out and play. We can go down to the lake if you want."

"Yeah!" Jack cheered and squirming out of his grip. "Let's go!" he ran out the door, his family close behind him.

"I'm gonna make a snowman and a snow fort! I'm also gonna make a snow bunny!"

Angeline smiled, before suppressing a yawn. She really hadn't gotten any sleep for the past week. Looking after two small children was beginning to take a toll on her.

"Woah!" Jack's shout made them both run faster.

"Jack? What is it? Where are you?" Angeline called out worriedly.

"I'm over here!" Jack cried out from the bottom of a hill. His parents both let out a sigh of relief.

"Okay, be a bit more careful. Your mum would kill me if you hurt yourself because of that jumper!" his father said, as he helped him up.

"Okay!" Jack replied, happy as ever and ran off to play in the snow.

Angeline smiled, before suppressing a yawn. Roderick placed a hand on her shoulder, concerned. "Hey, are you okay? Do you want me

to stay here and watch the kids, while you go rest?"

Angeline shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Besides, Jack will throw a fit if I don't get to see every snow figure he makes. Remember last time?" Roderick grinned. There had been snow all over the house!

As if on cue, Jack scrambled up to them and held up a lopsided snow figure with what looked like two heads. "Look, Mama. It's a snow bunny!" Okay, not two heads.

His mother smiled. "Oh, do bunnies like the snow?"

"Well, snow bunnies do!" Jack insisted.

"Okay, okay," she relented and Jack went off to make a snowman. They stayed there until a little after the sun had set. Jack had, by that time, moved on from snow figures and now he was building a snow fort. Every now and then he would roll around in the snow, just so he could look at the way it sparkled on his jumper. He felt like a real frost sprite! He was almost finished before he overheard his mother saying something.

"It's getting rather dark, Roderick. We should head back now."

"No!" Jack cried out, causing them to look up in both surprise and trepidation. "I haven't even finished my fort yet!"

"Come on, frost sprite! We have to go!" Roderick tried to pick Jack up, but he was too slow. Jack had took off running and was now on the other side of his fort.

"I'm not coming!" Jack pouted.

Angeline sighed and yawned again. "Come on, Mummy's tired. Let's go, its getting dark out."

Jack was silent. He refused to go, he was having too much fun! Who cares if it was getting dark?

Roderick put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, why don't you take Pippa back and I'll bring Jack. I can see he's gonna take a while."

Angeline hesitated, before nodding. It was best to get Pippa out of the cold as soon as possible. "Okay, I'll start cooking as soon as I get there," she said before trudging back through the forest. It really was getting dark. The trees were casting eerie shadows on the snow around her. "No need to be nervous, they're just shadows. And you know the way back well. No chance of getting lost." Unfortunately, walking through the snow in daylight is one thing and walking back the other way in darkness were completely different things.

"Uh, maybe it's this way." She walked tentatively in one direction. Angeline clutched Pippa close to herself, fear clawing at the edges of her brain. What was that? There was rustling in the bush. Her tiredness wasn't helping. 'I'm sure that's just a little animal. A- a snow bunny, a cute, fluffy snow bunny. But, do snow bunnies growl?'

Not wanting to find out, Angeline started running. She had no idea where she was going, she just needed to get out of this damned forest! 'Ugh, _why_ did we move near a forest!?' she thought, still racing away from the mysterious animal. She looked over her shoulder to see if it was following her, and that was her fatal mistake.

She tripped and crashed hard to the ground! Her head smacked against a rock that she had taken for a shadow. Angeline still clutched Pippa tightly in her arms. The last thing she heard was Pippa's wails as the darkness closed in, consuming her. Then, Angeline left our world.

* * *

"Pippa? Angie? Where are you?" Roderick called. He had been searching for them for nearly an hour. After Jack had finally given up on playing outside in favor for a warm meal, Roderick had carried him home through the almost pitch black forest. Despite this, he had had no trouble finding his way home, he only hoped, though, that Angeline had his luck, too. He knew he was wrong as soon as his house had come into view.

The place was dark, and he heard nothing but the wind rustling through the bushes, causing snow, branches and rocks to toss and scrape along the ground, creating an almost growling noise.

Roderick quickly left Jack, who had fallen asleep in his arms, in his bed with a note scribbled on the bedside table.

_Gone out for something. Don't worry, be right back. Food is in fridge._

Roderick had then quickly ran out with a torch to find the rest of his family. He wasn't having any luck though. He heard no one call back, saw no one emerge from the trees, tired but safe. 'Where are you?' he thought, worried.

Something different was caught by his light. Roderick peered closely. It was...red? He walked closer, pulled back the bushes and was greeted with a sight from his nightmares.

"No."

His wife was lying on the ground, still clutching their daughter. The snow that surrounded her was stained red. 'Her blood,' he thought dully. Roderick collapsed beside her and felt fat tears roll down his face. His little baby girl's face was blue, and she was struggling to breathe. He quickly wrapped his jacket around her and took her out of his wife's steel grip, holding her close. He pulled out his phone and spoke to the ambulance, but he knew it was too late. The cold was too much for her, she must have caught pneumonia. His own daughter's heart stopped beating while she was still in his arms.

Roderick's beloved Queen and his little Princess, were gone.

* * *

A plate smashed above Jack's head. "I told you to clean!" Another plate smashed next to his head, a stray piece of glass cutting his cheek. "I told you and I came home to this!?"

"Yer worthless!" Roderick roared. "Yer can't even do a simple thing like cleaning!" Jack refrained from answering that he didn't clean either. Most ten year old boys were not built for housework, Jack especially. He would much rather be outside, playing, but that would never happen. Jack wasn't allowed outside, especially into the forest, except for school. He pressed himself into the wall as more glass crashed around him.

Roderick took another swig of alcohol. "Yer better clean this up, ya freak." he muttered as he slouched off to the lounge room. Humiliated at being treated like a slave, Jack picked up a broom and began to sweep.

He wiped a drop of blood from the cut on his cheek on his old, green jumper. It was still too big for him, but he stubbornly wore it. It reminded him of better times, when his family were together and happy.

Not like now, when it's torn in half and miserable. They weren't even a family anymore! It wasn't like Roderick even liked Jack, or anything. He yelled, threw things, blamed him for everything, locked him in the basement when he was sick of looking at him, hit him... Roderick just kept Jack practically as a maid and Jack stayed because he had nowhere else to go. How would he survive on the streets?

Roderick didn't even consider Jack as his son anymore. He was always just 'the kid', 'boy' or 'you'. Ever since the accident, Roderick had slowly stopped looking after Jack and had drowned himself in alcohol and Jack's pain.

Jack sighed, it was pointless to dwell on the past. He just had to clean. He felt tears prickle at the back of his eyes. 'No,' he told himself furiously 'I will not cry. I will never cry! Crying is for scared little babies!' Glaring, he wiped a stray tear with the heel of his hand and focused on putting the rest of the glass in the bin.

"Boy!" he heard his father call from the lounge room. Uh oh, he was sure to be in trouble. "Come here." Dreading what would follow, Jack shuffled into the room.

Roderick stared at him blearily from his chair, his eyes unfocused. His expression was that of distaste, as if he couldn't believe that Jack had come from him. Jack could tell from the way he swayed slightly and drooled a little that he was heavily drunk. Jack thought it was best if he was quiet and let him yell it out. Before he could react, his father whipped his hand out a slapped Jack across his face.

"Y'know," Roderick began in a nasty voice "It's your fault that your mother and sister are dead."

This was nothing knew. Roderick told him that almost everyday, but it still hurt him, badly.

"If you just behaved like a child should have and respected me, they would be alive. But no, you had to be the odd one and ignore me. You freaking waste of air." he grabbed Jack's shoulders suddenly and held himself so close that Jack almost gagged from his breath. "Why don't you kill yourself already!? It would do us all a favor!" he shouted in his face.

This time Jack couldn't hold back the tears. He started to sob. His only family member wanted him to die?

Roderick shook him. "Stop crying! What do you have to cry about?" As Roderick's voice grew louder and angry, Jack's sobs became harder. "You're the one who killed them! I'm the one who couldn't save them! It's all your fault!" On that last word, Roderick drew back a fist and punched Jack hard on the side of his face.

Jack looked up at him from where he fell on the floor, clutching his cheek.

Roderick snarled at him. "I can't even punish you normally, you need a special punishment." He ripped Jack's jumper off of his head, scratching the boy's face in the process. Roderick grabbed his collar and broke off several buttons.

Jack flinched violently. What was his father doing!?

Not wanting to find out, Jack latched his teeth on what was closest; his father's ear. Roderick howled and tried to shake Jack off, but Jack held on until he tasted blood. Then he fled, slamming the front door behind him and not stopping. He didn't care where he ran, he just needed to get away! Jack never heard his father's cries and sobs for him to stop, that he was sorry. Jack didn't care anymore.

* * *

"Sir?"

"Yes, Toothiana?"

She held her planner book to her chest. "Sir, I'm here to go over your schedule with you."

"Yes, yes. Go on." The dark haired man didn't look up from where he sat at his desk, finishing paperwork.

Tooth gave a nod, sitting in the padded chair in front of the desk. She opened the book up to the pages for that week. "Tomorrow, you have a meeting with Stevenson and Freders to discuss the finalities of the premier in a few months. Wednesday, Mr. Mensa will be by with Mr. Campanella so you may discuss who will be a good director for your new film. That night you will also be having a dinner with potential investors. Thursday, there's a press conference. Your brother will be arriving for his visit this Friday afternoon. Also, sometime this week, Miss Duvall's agent would like to speak to you about her recent complaints."

"Why, again, must we keep hiring these imbecilic divas to be in my movies?" He rubbed his temples.

"Because it's what the public wants, sir. Shall I pencil her in for Friday morning?" Tooth glanced up at him with a knowing smirk.

"Yes, yes. Is there anything else?"

"Only one more thing. What about the matter of finding a child?" She closed her planner and looked up at him.

"Child? What's this about a child?"

"Sir, don't you remember?" She chuckled. "We agreed that it would help with your image if you bring an unfortunate child into your home."

"Oh. Must I bring a child in here? They're nothing but snivelling, annoying brats."

"You act like it would be the spawn of Satan himself. It won't be too bad. Besides, you'll be helping to better some poor child's life. Plus, the house won't be so empty anymore."

"Are you saying my house is empty?" He sat back in his chair, taking off his glasses and setting them next to his paperwork. With a sigh, he looked over at his overly optimistic assistant. "Very well. When will the peace and quiet of my home be interrupted by this...child?"

"As soon as you choose a child, sir. Would you like me to schedule time after your meeting with Ms. Duvall's agent this Friday?" When she received a nod of approval, Tooth opened the planner again quickly, scribbling it in on Friday. "Very well then. Do you need anything else, sir?"

"I want you to get ahold of Mr. Michaels and tell him I want that damn script. He's been avoiding it for nearly two weeks now, and if he doesn't get it to me by next Tuesday I will refuse to produce his project. That is all." He watched his assistant leave his office, before turning in his chair to look out the window.

Pitch Black, the most revered horror movie producer of all time, the aptly titled Nightmare King, was going to be adopting a child. In what sane reality was he the type of man to be a father?


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Jack panted as he ran along the cobbled back streets. His feet slapped hard against the ground without the protection of shoes. Jack chanced a glance over his shoulder and let out a laugh, excitement coursing through him. His chasers were still after him, but they were slowly falling further and further behind him.

"You better hurry up if you want to catch me!" he shouted back at them.

"Stop! Slow down!"

Jack laughed. They really were stupid. "Now, why would I do that?" he said before climbing over a low fence that creaked slightly under his weight. Not that he weighed much, living on the streets wasn't the easiest place to get food. That was what he had just stolen- er, relieved his chaser of, not five minutes ago; a bag of apples. Seriously, who chases someone because of that? Just because he had accidently destroyed half the shop in the process...

Okay, now Jack was getting tired. A bite from a dog he had taken not to long ago was beginning to act up again. 'Ugh, not now!' He needed to get away, fast.

There! Behind the small bakery! Just in between a large garbage disposal bin and the wall, there was a small gap. It was just big enough for Jack to squeeze into. He looked behind him again, he could tell by their footsteps that they were almost at the corner. As soon as they rounded it, everything would be over for Jack. Okay, that was a little dramatic, but they would take _his _apples!

Jack dove into the small alcoveand forced his way deeper, scraping the bite against the street. He waited, huddled in the most uncomfortable position ever, as his chasers ran into the alleyway.

"Where'd he go?" one of them asked.

"I dunno, maybe we took a wrong turn, Alex?"

"A wrong turn to where, idiot? I clearly saw him go this way."

"Yeah, you clearly saw him with your crappy, broken, glasses," one of them snickered.

"Oh, shut up, Rob. Let's just go back already, before someone else steals something." Nodding, Rob followed the other man away, who was muttering angrily about how much it would cost to fix the place.

After waiting another five minutes, Jack crawled out of his hiding place. He groaned as the pain of the bite spread throughout his left leg. He would really need to fix that, somehow. Jack began to limp back out of the alley, and after checking that those angry shopkeepers weren't around, he started limping down the street.

Well, it wasn't so bad. He still had his apples, at least. One now had a massive bruise on it and the plastic had ripped so some were dirty, but they were still food. Wait, what was that in the middle? Oh no...apples did _not _have legs. Especially thin, long legs. Jack shifted the apples around and the source of the ugly leg was revealed. A spider, a big, hairy, ugly spider.

Jack moaned. He would have liked to throw away the apples now, but he knew he couldn't. He had done too much to get them. Frustrated, he swung the bag around, hoping the spider would fall out. As if he was going to reach in there and get it himself. Focused so much on the bag, he didn't even notice where he was going, or where he was swinging the bag.

Jack felt himself -and his bag- crash into someone incredibly tall, causing them to grunt and fall hard to the ground. Jack groaned as he felt the pain in his leg worsen and his pants around the bite grew damp. He looked up from where he fell to see the most freaky looking man he had seen. 'Oh, crap.' was his only thought. Judging by the enraged look on the man's face, this wasn't going to end well for Jack...

* * *

"Tooth, I want you to coordinate with Ms. Duvall's agent to get the proper furniture she would like for her dressing room. Also order that special coffee that apparently she _needs_ to be at her be-" Pitch cut off, when he felt something bump into him. He turned to see what it was, angry at being so blatantly interrupted. Nobody touches the infamous Mr. Black without permission. _Nobody_. "May I ask why you were not watching where you were going, child?" He looked the boy up and down, taking in his messy white hair, raggedy clothing, lack of shoes, and the growing red stain on his pants. Tooth stared with wide eyes, clutching her book close, afraid of what he boss would do to the poor boy.

"Uh, sorry, but I was kinda occupied with a giant spider! Why weren't _you _watching where you were going?" Jack retorted. "Didn't you notice the person _swinging a bagaround_ right in front of you?" Jack picked himself up off of the ground, wincing slightly.

Pitch scowled at the teenager. "You seriously have the gall to talk to an elder like that?"

"U-uh, sir? So is that all you would like me to do for Ms. Duvall?" she asked, trying to distract him from the unfortunate kid.

A hand came up to stop her. "Do you know who I am, _boy_?"

Jack snorted. "No, why should I?"

"Because I could have you arrested in a heartbeat." Pitch straightened out the jacket of his suit. "You're just lucky that you're not the worst part of my day."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Yeah, lucky me, because meeting you was such a pleasure." Jack began to limp away from the rude man. "Now, if you don't mind, oh arsehole of the world, I have to find my poor apples."

As much as the teen had annoyed him, the older man couldn't stop his expression from softening when he saw a trickle of blood peeping out from beneath the boy's torn pants on his injured leg. Yes, he loved everything dark and loved to see people scared, but that didn't mean he wanted anybody outside of his movies to be injured, especially a kid on the streets. "Hey, boy." His hand went out to grab Jack's shoulder, stopping him. "What happened to your leg?"

"Huh?" Jack flinched from the man's touch. "Oh, nothing. It's none of your business!" he shouted, his defense instincts flaring up. When Jack felt scared, he grew angry. And when he grew angry, things usually got violent.

Before Pitch could reply, he heard a shout and there were suddenly two men running over to them. "Hey! You little bastard! You stole our apples!"

Rob nodded his head in agreement, grabbing for the teen's arm, whose eyes widened in fright. "Did you think you could just get away?" Neither of them took into account the man standing next to Jack.

Clearing his throat, Pitch looked at them. "Excuse me, but what seems to be the problem here?"

Alex scoffed at him. "It's none of your business, sir. We're just dealing with a little _situation_ here."

Black could see the way the teen's eyes widened in fright, and he didn't like the way these two men were treating him. With a slight growl, he pulled Jack out of their grasp, holding him beside him with his arm protectively around thin shoulders. Pitch pulled himself up to his full, rather towering height, looking down at the other two. "If you have a problem with my _son_, do please tell me. Perhaps this has just been a misunderstanding."

Though they trembled slightly, neither backed down. "Your son?"

"Well, then you should know that he stole a whole bag of apples from us."

"Yeah, and damaged half our store!"

"I see..." Pitch nodded his head. "I apologize for any inconveniences William may have caused you," he came up with a name for the kid on the spot. "I would be happy to settle any costs for the damages. So long as the law enforcement hear's nothing about this little incident, of course." When he received nods from both of the men, he waved his hand. "Toothiana! Come here, please."

Tooth rushed forward. "Yes, sir?"

"Give me my checkbook and escort William over by the car."

"Yes, sir." The flustered assistant quickly handed Pitch his checkbook, before gently taking Jack's arm and leading him away from the two men.

Jack bit his lip. Okay, he had either been saved by the man, or he was being kidnapped, he wasn't sure. Jack just focused on the talkative lady's hand on his arm as he stumbled over towards a car. No, not just a car, it was a _limo. _A freaking _limo. _"Woah, I get to sit in a limo?" It was so shiny... And _new_ looking. It was easy to say that Jack was quickly distracted by the shiny vehicle.

The lady just smiled and helped him into the car. Jack looked around, getting excited. 'This is so cool!' All thoughts of the angry men, the creepy guy and kidnapping were driven from his head as he took in the interior of the car. It was so fancy and expensive looking. Jack felt a little out of place sitting in the middle of it. There was a small, blue light right above him. Like most kids would, he felt a desperate urge to touch it.

Jack reached up and tapped it, before touching the ceiling and everything that followed. Pretty soon he was rubbing his hands over everything in the car. Jack stared at the black window between him and the driver. He needed to press those buttons. He grinned when he saw one sticking out the bottom of the window. He pressed it; the window went down. He pressed it again; the window went up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down. Nothing. "Hey, it's not working!" Jack pouted and looked up to see a slightly annoyed chauffeur.

"Uh," he said intelligently.

"Enjoying yourself?" the driver asked dryly.

Jack blushed. "Yeah, a little. Hey driver, can you turn on the radio? Hey, can you turn on the air con? Hey, can you unlock the doors. Mine is still open a little. Ooh, can I drive?"

The poor chauffeur, who had been trying to keep up with Jack's question sharply. "No!"

"Oh, well, I guess you're right. I don't even know how to drive." Jack shrugged. Then he noticed a small window above his head. Slowly lifting himself through it, he watched Pitch as he wrote a cheque for the two men. Grinning, he slapped the roof and shouted "Hey! Your chauffeur is mean! And I'm hungry, bring us back some Maccas! The chauffeur wants a happy meal, but with a superhero instead of a pony, this time. Thanks!" he then popped back down.

The chauffeur had a mortified expression on his face. "Hey, driver! Can I _pretend _to drive, at least?" The man nodded quickly, worrying about what else the mischievous teen would do if he didn't get his way. They ended up switching places, the chauffeur clutching the keys in his pocket. He wasn't _that _stupid.

After pressing every button and switch on the dashboard, Jack began pretending that he was in the middle of one of those big car races he'd heard about, complete with car noises. This was when the talkative lady came back.

"Having fun, are you?" Tooth giggled at the sight. "Have you ever been a limousine before?" She slipped inside and sat on one of the padded seats across from the door.

"Uh, no." Jack said sheepishly. "I've never been in a limo before; I haven't been in a car in ages. Sometimes I manage to sneak onto buses."

"You have to sneak onto buses?" She asked, opening up her book to check over the details on her latest assignment.

Jack blushed. "Uh, well, yeah, you need money for buses. I, obviously, don't have any." he scratched the back of his head. "Nevermind." he said before switching seats again with the chauffeur

"I...sorry. That was rude of me." Tooth's cheeks flushed a little. Before she could say anything else, the limo door opened.

Pitch slipped inside, shutting the door behind him. "Tooth, my brother is coming tonight, correct?"

"Yes, sir. He should be arriving in an hour or so."

Jack was silent, the smile wiped off of his face. What was this guy going to do now? Jack vaguely thought of his of his kidnapping theory again. Maybe that's what they do; trick kids into think they're safe and then drive off with them! Jack felt himself growing anxious and reached for the door handle slowly.

The chauffeur quickly started up the car. "Where to, sir?"

"Take us home, Bernard." Pitch sat back in his seat, crossing his legs neatly in front of him and handing his checkbook back to Tooth. "Tooth, please call ahead and make sure what we have supplies to treat what looks to be an infected wound of some sort." The assistant immediately dialed up the house, talking quickly and quietly into the bluetooth on her ear. He finally turned to look at Jack. "I'll have my brother take a look at the injury of yours, when he arrives."

Jack blinked, still confused out of his mind. "Wait, what? Why would you do that?" Jack paused. "Why have you been helping me, I don't know you. I've been nothing but rude to you."

"Because as much as I may seem so, I am not so cruel and heartless as to let a child wander the streets with a wound such as yours." He picked up the script that he had been reading before his meeting, Mr. Michaels having finally got it to him. "What is your name, anyway?"

Jack looked at him suspiciously. Could he really trust him? But it wasn't like he could do anything with just his name. "Jack, my name's Jack. No last name, I haven't had one for a long time," he added rather morbidly.

"I'll assume that is short for 'Jackson'?"

The teen nodded slowly. "Yeah, I suppose. What about you, huh? You acted as if I should have known you before."

"Kozmotis Pitchiner. Though most of the world knows me as Pitch Black."

Jack snickered. "_Pitch Black?_ Well, isn't that dramatic. Hmm, how do you say your first name? Koz-Kozi-Kozmoty! Yeah, I think I'll just stick with Pitch, thanks."

"So glad I could amuse you," the older man said sarcastically, not looking up from the papers in his hand.

Jack huffed. "Learn to take a joke," he muttered, before grinning again. "Hey, you forgot to bring back food!" He winked at Pitch.

Pitch looked up him, unamused. "Oh, shame on me. I assumed you were only speaking because your idiocy had gotten the best of you. Forgive me. I'll have North cook you up something when we get back."

Jack looked at the lady -Tooth- with a confused look. "North?"

"Mr. Black's personal chef." She smiled, holding her hand out to the teen. "I'm Toothiana, by the way. Just Tooth for short though."

He shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, Tooth. Wow, a personal chef, huh? I could make use of that." Jack grinned. "Don't worry, I'll clean up!" he added.

Tooth laughed. "North's the best cook in town, especially when it comes to sweets. The man has the biggest sweet tooth I've ever seen."

"Wow, sweets!? Awesome! I don't remember the last time I've had one." Jack exclaimed and jumped a little on the spot, before hissing and clutching his leg. The pain in his leg had gotten worse and he felt bile rise in his mouth when his hand came away covered in blood. "Oh, that's not good. That is not good."

Jack tried to stop the flow with his jumper. By now it had quite a few stains and was covered in dirt and a few small rips, but at least it fit. Now it would have a huge blood stain on his sleeve.

Pitch looked up when he heard a hiss and a small squeak come from his assistant. Upon seeing the problem, he sighed. "Tooth, don't look." He knew the girl got woozy at the sight of blood, and he didn't need to have her passing out in the car. Without further thought, he grabbed one of the drink towels nearby and put it over the wound, gripping it tightly onto Jack's leg. "Sorry, if this hurts, but you need to keep pressure on it."

Jack started when he felt someone clamp onto his leg. Why would someone do that? He twisted and started to kick. "Hey, stop it! You're hurting me! Let go! Let go of me! Don't hit me!" He began to whimper. "Dad, please, I'm sorry! Why are you hurting me?" he shrieked, starting to flail.

Fear clouded his mind. What was happening? Why was he doing this? Why was his dad hurting him? Kicking and screaming more, he got a glimpse of his dad's face. Hang on, that wasn't his dad. Who was that? Where was he again? His kicks grew less violent and he grew more confused. "Eh? What...?"

"Would you stop thrashing around already?" The older man gently pushed him back into the seat, never releasing his grip on his leg. He looked at him, shocked, but he spoke very carefully, not wanting to frighten the boy further. "Look. In order to stop your leg from bleeding, there needs to be pressure on it. I know it hurts, but it'll be over soon. I promise."

Jack whimpered softly. So, he was just helping him? A weight lifted from his shoulders, only for another to settle on his chest. 'I hope he wasn't paying attention to my screams...'

Jack cleared his throat. "Uh, oh, okay. I didn't know that. Thanks, I'm sorry I kicked you, and hit you...and bit you." The chauffeur glared at him through the mirror. "Oh, was that you!? Sorry, I don't even know how I got over there, heh heh." Jack drew his hood around his head, ignoring the stench that assaulted his senses. "Uh, you can let go of my leg now, I'll do it."

"Very well." Pitch drew his hand away, sitting back into his own seat. "Tooth, could you please open a window?" Their eyes met, and they shared a flash of concern, both of them having heard every word of Jack's outbursts.

"Y-yes, sir."

"We will be arriving shortly, Jack. And my brother will be coming shortly to take care of your leg."

Jack had calmed a little. They hadn't said anything, yet, but he didn't miss much. He had seen that look. "Oh, okay. Is he like a doctor or something?" Another man that will hurt me. Great.

"Yes. My brother is a pediatric surgeon. The best of the best. He should have no problem taking care of your injury."

"That's good." Jack gave a weak smile. "So, how come you're so rich, huh? All the people I know are poor or... Poor."

"It's easy to make money in the movie industry, especially when you're the best in your field."

Tooth chuckled softly. "And Mr. Black most certainly is the best."

"Snob..." Jack muttered behind his hand. "What movies do you act in? The super villain? You look scary enough. Maybe the monster. Oh, don't tell me you're the sidekick!"

"I am _not_ an actor, boy. Actors are overrated individuals who do nothing more than put on a pretty face and scream in terror in front of a camera. They're all just thorns in my side. I am a producer."

"Not just a producer, sir. _The_ producer." She turned to Jack. "He's the most well known horror movie producer of all time. They've even given him special titles for it."

Jack grinned, his curiosity aroused. "Names? Like what? The Prince of Jerkiness?"

"Like 'The Nightmare King,' 'Spirit of Fear,' 'The Messiah of Terror.'"

Pitch groaned at that. "'Messiah of Terror.' I cannot put into words how much I despise that one." Tooth giggled.

Jack burst out laughing. "Oh, great Messiah of Terror! I shall serve thee. Except thee must pay thy a truckload of money!" He didn't realise at all how he mixed up the time lines.

The man scowled at him. "Just because some idiot newspapers have deemed it alright to call me that, that does not mean you have permission to."

Jack fake pouted. "Aw, why? The public can, why can't I? I'm part of the public, well, the part of the public that hides." Jack winked.

"Because I will not tolerate being called a name I despise more than anything else by a _child_ I just had to spend hundreds of dollars on to bail out of a situation in which he stole from and damaged a store."

Jack glared. "That I stole because I had to eat! Besides, people will be glad I wrecked that shop, by accident! That bag of apples had a _spider _in it, if you didn't hear me the first few times I said that! I wanted fresh apples, but I didn't want them _that _fresh." Jack huffed, furious. Of course he wouldn't understand. He was just some big movie producer. Even when he had helped Jack, he still complained about it. It's not like Jack had forced him to help him, in fact, he had tried to get away from the creep! Jack glared at the headrest, trying to ignore everyone else.

Pitch sighed. "Look...Believe it or not, I _do_ understand why you stole from the shop. When you're hungry, you do whatever you have to feed yourself. I get it."

Jack raised an eyebrow and folded his arms. "It sounds like you've done something like that yourself, Pitch."

"I won't deny that parts of my past are not the brightest, but that is _all_ I will say." He picked the script back up.

"Oh, come on. You know pretty much everything about me! Tell me, please, who am I gonna tell? An angry dog and a bunch of homeless people? Nah."

Tooth reached out to gently put a hand on the teen's arm. She shook her head slightly, giving him a look that clearly told him to drop the matter.

Jack took her silent advice and dropped it. But now everything was awkward, and he still wanted to know more about the man. He wondered if he should call him Mr. Black. Was that more polite? Nah, Pitch sounded better.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN- Sorry if there is any confusion! The first time I uploaded this, it was all out of shape and you couldn't read it!**

Pitch closed the script, as they pulled through a shining gate, marking the page in his head. He didn't need to look out the window to admire the sprawling grounds and the towering mansion. He saw it every day after all. When the limousine pulled to a stop, a man quickly rushed forward to open the door, and he stepped out, straightening his jacket.

"Good afternoon, sir." The slightly balding man gave a small bow of his head.

"Good afternoon, Jeromy. Are the medical supplies Tooth called ahead for ready?"

"Yes, sir. They're in the spare bedroom."

"Very well. Thank you, Jeromy." Pitch turned back to the car, helping Tooth out and looking at the teenager still inside. "Are you coming in, Jackson?"

"Huh?" Jack grunted. He was gaping at everything around him. It was amazing! They had a fountain. A freaking fountain!

"Are you going to come inside, or are you going to sit in the car and keep gaping?"

"Maybe," Jack replied, only half joking. "As long as I get to play in that fountain, I'm happy."

Pitch rolled his eyes. "Why play in a fountain, when there's a perfectly good pool? But you'll be playing in neither until my brother sees to your leg."

"A fountain is fun, too! A pool would be nice... Wait, I have to wait that long? Come on, I'm sure the water will help my leg." Jack joked as he lifted himself gently out of the limo.

"My brother will be the judge of that. You will have to wait for him to arrive. Now, come along, before I decide to just leave you out here." Kozmotis turned to the house, heading inside, Jeromy holding the door open for them all.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever." he limped after them, struggling to keep up. "No need to be so fast. I'm not dying," he grumbled.

Pitch didn't answer, but he did slow down slightly. They walked through the grand entryway, where he removed his coat, handing it to Jeromy. Before he could go any further, a flash of yellow on the stairs caught his attention. Looking up, he watched a stout blonde man slide down the curving bannister of the staircase with a grin. "Ah, Sanderson. I didn't know you had arrived yet." He couldn't hold back a small smile at the sight of his younger brother.

"I'm sorry, sir. I was ordered not to tell you. He wanted to surprise you." Jeromy explained with a smile. Everyone who worked in the house had a soft spot for the boss's brother.

"Don't worry about it, Jeromy. I'm sure he had a reason for wanting to. No?" The taller sibling turned to see his brother with a big grin on his face still, shaking his head. Sanderson's hand started moving quickly, making signs to communicate to him and Pitch nodding his head in understanding. The smaller man moved forward, wrapping his brother in a tight hug, despite the other's obvious discomfort with the physical contact.

Tooth watched the encounter with a small giggle, understanding the little man as well. "It looks like the children are still rubbing off on you, huh, Sandy?" He nodded eagerly, moving over to hug her as well. It wasn't until after he pulled away that he finally noticed the teen behind them, his hands asking who he was.

"Ah, yes. Sanderson, I know you are here for just a family visit, but would you mind taking a look at the boy's leg?" He watched the little blonde eagerly nod his head, agreeing to check it out.

"Uh, hi. I'm Jack," he said, trying his best not to stare at the man. He was incredibly short compared to his brother, almost as short as himself. "Y'know, you really don't have to fix my leg. If I could have some bandages, or something, that would be great."

Sandy took one look at the bloody towel Jack was still holding to his leg and shook his head emphatically. He shot wordless questions at his brother one after the other, and Pitch answered them. "He didn't say how he got it. Yes, we have all the supplies you will need. Yes, sutures too." When the blonde finally finished, the elder of the two gave a sigh of relief. "Oh, yes. I should probably introduce the two of you. Sanderson, meet Jackson. Jackson, this is my younger brother, Sanderson Mansnoozie. I'm sure it's clear now, but Sanderson is a mute. He can hear and understand us just fine, but he can't talk. So that's why he uses sign language." Sandy moved forward, holding his hand out to the teen with a comforting smile.

Jack gave a small smile and shook his hand. Something about this guy was more comforting than most. Despite his earlier thoughts, Jack knew this guy wouldn't hurt him, at least not intentionally. "Hey, call me Jack." He sent a meaningful glance at Pitch.

The dark haired man simply rolled his eyes. "How about we just get that leg yours all fixed up, Jackson? If you'll follow me..." Pitch left the grand entryway and turned down a long corridor to the downstairs guest bedrooms. He opened the door and led them inside. All of the medical supplies were laid out neatly on the desk and the bed had been covered with extra linen sheets. Pitch looked to his brother to translate for him, closing the door after the other two had come in. "Jackson, go ahead and sit on the bed." Sandy went to the desk to gather what he needed.

Jack hoisted himself onto the bed. He pulled his left leg up and slowly peeled back the towel. "Ew," he commented. The towel was now soaked and was sticking to him. The bite was now just a bloody, sticky mess. "I've never had an injury that bad before. Well, last year I broke my arm, but there wasn't much I could do about that. It wasn't so bad."

"Perhaps you should learn to be more careful and you wouldn't keep getting hurt." At his brother's orders, Pitch grabbed a pair of scissors and went to the bed, cutting the fabric of Jack's pants around the wound. "How did you get this, Jackson?"

"Hey, it wasn't my fault! The thing with my arm, I was being chased by a stupid gang. Don't ask me why, I have no idea. They caught up with me and..." Jack shook his head. "So, the gash, right? Well, about a week ago, I was walking past this bakery. It smelled so nice. So I, uh, well, I borrowed some rolls from there. Anyway, so on my way back to my hide out, there was this dog. A big, stray mutt, it was. He started growling and then he ran at me! We tussled a bit, before I realised that he was after the bread." Jack half-smiled. "I guess he was as hungry as I was. Then he ran off with them, but not before he bit me. And that was it."

Pitch nodded, tossing away the scraps of cloth he was cutting off. "Are you almost ready, Sanderson?" The blonde at the desk nodded, signing something to him. "He says he's going to numb the area for you first, so you don't feel anything." Sandy came over with a syringe, approaching him but not using it yet, unsure of how the teen would react.

"Uh," Jack started to back up. "Is that a needle? That's a needle. That's a big, ugly needle. I do not like it. There is no way you're putting that in me. I can handle the pain, thank you very much."

Sandy looked at him, worriedly signing to the older man. "Are you sure? He says it could end up hurting quite a lot without doing this. And he doesn't want you to accidentally move while he's working."

Jack glared. "I'll be fine. I've handled worse."

"Alright then." Sandy took the syringe back to the desk and came back with everything he needed to clean the wound.

Jack closed his eyes tightly. Despite his big talk, he still was dreading this. 'Here we go.' he thought.

Line Break

Sandy sat back with a sigh of relief. Nineteen stitches and a little squirming from the teen later and it was all finished. While he went to go clean up all of his materials, he left his brother to bandage the area.

Pitch took up the scissors again, cutting off the entire pant leg. Before the teen could complain, though, he said, "I will have Tooth find you another pair." The dark man rolled up his sleeves another fold before starting. He put some gauze down on the parts of the wound so bad as to require stitches, and then he started to wrap the bandage around Jack's leg. "Are you still hungry? I'm sure Tooth has gotten North to cook you up something by now."

Jack grinned. "I'm starving! I don't think I've eaten in...I think about a week? I'm not sure. What's he cooking? Don't worry, I'm not allergic to anything, probably."

"Then I will go get North." The man finished bandaging Jack's leg, and he stood up, heading towards the door. Pitch made his way through his house towards the kitchen. When he opened the door, he was pleased to see that Tooth had told North to prepare a meal after all. He was met by a big smile from his chef.

"Good afternoon, sir. Toothy told me ya have a guest and that he be hungry. I hope ya don't mind that I made a few things for him?" North tossed a few more ingredients into a frying pan.

"Of course I don't mind. In fact, I was coming to tell you to do exactly that." He turned to his assistant, who was sitting on a still watching the man cook. "Tooth, could you please find a new pair of pants for the boy? We had to cut up his old ones to reach the wound."

"Of course, sir. Any particular type?" She stood up.

"Not particularly. Just make sure that they would be loose fitting on him, because of the bandages. We can find him a new pair later on once the swelling has gone down and the bandages can be removed."

"Very well, sir." Tooth left the room, dialing a number on her phone.

Pitch grabbed an apple from the fruit basket. "The boy is in the first spare room down stairs. Bring the food when it's done, please."

"Yes, sir." North watched his boss leave the kitchen, quickly turning back to his cooking.

Jack knocked hesitantly on the door of the kitchen. He knew that they told him to wait and rest in his room, but he was so hungry! Besides, he was just going to sneak some food, they shouldn't be too mad. 'I wonder what the cook is like?' Jack slowly opened the door and sneaked in, crouching low. Jack jumped as a loud hum filled the air. Hiding behind a table covered in flour and cake mix, Jack peaked out to see a huge man bent over in front of him. It wasn't a nice view.

North continued his cooking, at first unaware of the teen's presence, as he hummed along to the music he was playing as he worked.

Jack grinned, noticing the box of cake mix next the cook's elbow. There were sure to be chocolate buttons in there! But how could he get the big man away? 'There!' Over on the other side of the room, the oven was cooking a loaf of bread. Jack quickly glanced at the cook, before creeping over towards it. He hid behind a small stand that was holding several bowls. That was one good thing about being skinny, he could fit in or behind small spaces easily.

Jack slowly stretched his arm out towards the oven's heat dial and turned it up a few -or maybe ten- notches, before snatching his arm back and sneaking back to the table.

Can you write North smelling burned bread or something? Just to get North ver to the oven. I'm going to write what happens after that now.

'Yes!' Jack cheered in his brain. He snuck up and grabbed the box of cake mix.

"And what do you think you are doing?" A deep voice askedhim, scaring the hell out of Jack. He yelped as his wrist was grabbed and forced him to face the huge cook. Jack glanced fearfully up and his eyes connected with clear blue ones. But they weren't harsh or cold, they were warm and had a certain spark to them. It was then that Jack realised that the hand that was holding his wrist was gentle. "Uh, I was just... I didn't mean to..." Jack sighed and hung his head. There was just no getting out of this situation.

His head snapped up and he glared. If he couldn't lie to get himself out of it, he might as well defend himself, at least a little. "I'm sorry, alright? I was hungry!" Jack inwardly cringed at how pathetic his excuse was, but he wasn't going to show it.

The cook -North, he remembered overhearing- just grinned cheerfully and let go of his wrist. "It's fine. Yah know, I was making ya food right now." He said in a wiryvoice as he turned back to his cooking. "Is there anything you'd like to eat in particular?"

Jack blinked. "Uh, no, not really."

"Not even chocolate buttons?" North asked casually. He grinned as Jack blushed, before bursting out laughing. "It's okay, I've done that heaps of times myself!"

Jack laughed too. "I guess most of us have."

"Oh, by the way, were you the one who turned up the dial on the oven?" North asked suddenly.

Jack flushed. "Uh, no! I don't even know which one I'd need to switch!' He lied hastily. As if he was going tell someone as big as the cook, no matter how friendly he seemed that he was the one who had ruined his hard work. Jack wasn't sure how long it took to bake bread, but it must of taken a while.

North stopped what he was doing and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Lying, too? I think someone is being added to my naughty list." he said, pulling out an old, leather bound notebook.

"N-naughty list?" Jack stared at him, wide-eyed. "What's the naughty list?"

"Naughty list is people I must keep eye on while in my kitchen. And they're favorite snacks so I know what to bribe them with." North chuckled, pulling out a pen. "What is your name, boy?"

Jack swallowed nervously. "Uh, Jack, just Jack."

"Ahhh." The big man scribbled the name in his book along with the words "chocolate chips." He closed the notebook with a laugh, putting it back away. "Food will be done soon. Tell me, do you like potatoes?"

Jack blinked. What the Hell? Why wasn't he being punished? He had just been caught trying to steal food, but the very large man was laughing and asking what kind of food he liked? 'This place is getting even weirder...'

"Uh, I like any kind of food, I guess." Jack bit his lip to stop himself from adding that he liked ice cream. "Erm, anyway, I should go back to my room now."

Jack shook his head, shocked that he had forgotten his place. He was a child, and he had burned food and had tried to steal from an adult.

Scrambling around for a cloth, Jack began to scrub up the mess that North's cooking had created. He forced himself not to cringe as his frenzied movement aggravated the wound in his leg. All the while North watched him with a raised eyebrow.

'What is with this kid?' North thought anxiously. First, Jack had been a normal kid just trying to nick a snack. But the way he had looked at North when he had mock gripped his wrist, the fear in his eyes... North shuddered. He did not want to think of what could have caused Jack to react that way. And now he was cleaning as if his life depended on it. "Why are you cleaning, Jack? That is my job."

Jack frowned. "Well, I should be doing chores, y'know, for paying everyone back for looking after me. And how else am I going to earn my keep? I'd be thrown out if I didn't! ...Shouldn't I clean? Oh, do you want me to wash dishes?" Jack blushed as he realised that he had assumed he would be staying here for a while. 'Like they would want a dirty street brat like you living in their home. You're disgusting, how dare you even breathe the same air as them!' A voice inside his head sneered at him. "Shut up." Jack muttered.

"Did Mr. Black say anything about you having to work to stay?" He watched the teen shake his head. "Then you do not have to earn your keep, boy." The big man chuckled. "Now sit in the chair. Food is ready."

"Um, okay. Sir!" Jack added quickly, sitting down.

North laughed, setting down a plate piled high with baked potatoes in front of the teenager. "Would you like drink?"

Jack gaped. "Woah, that food's mine, right?" He grinned, before answering the question. "Um, water, maybe?"

"Yes. Food is yours. Why else would I set in front of you?" He went to the fridge and filled up a cup of water for Jack, setting it in front of him.

Pitch walked into the kitchen, strolling straight over to the fridge. "Good afternoon, North. I see you've met Jackson. He hasn't caused you any trouble has he?"

"Not at all. Has been perfect angel." He winked at the teenager, picking up a green apple from the fruit basket and tossing it to his boss.

The dark man caught it without even breaking his stride. Over the years, the two had done the same thing so many times it just became natural. Pitch took out some sort of vitamin drink from the fridge, holding the apple with his teeth. He turned back to the teenager, leaning against the counter and finishing his bite of the fruit. "Tooth should have you a new pair of pants soon."

"Oh, no it's okay. You don't need to do anything else for me." Jack said quickly. "Besides, it's not like I've done anything for you."

"I'm not doing this because I expect you to do anything for me, Jackson." Pitch looked down at the teen's dirty, bare feet. "What size shoe are you, anyway?"

'Why are you doing this?' Jack wondered, before blushing as he realised how dirty and lost he must look compared to Pitch and his freakishly clean home. "Uh, I'm not sure. The last shoes I had died a few years ago. Literally, they died. They were burned... It's a long story."

Pitch stroked his chin for a moment, guesstimating the size of Jack's feet. "I'd say you're about a 9 or 10. I'll have Tooth grab a few pairs for you to try on as well."

"Oh, thank you, but you really don't need to. I'll be leaving soon anyway, there's no need to be so nice to me. I just want to play in that fountain before I leave."

"Don't be silly. You're not going anywhere until my brother says it's alright to with that leg of yours." He took a sip of his protein drink.

"Wait, do you mean I'm stuck here!?" Jack felt panic swirl in his chest. They were keeping him here? Why!? Were they really kidnappers!? They were nice and all, but they were still strangers.

Jack forced himself to breath deeply. No, they were not kidnappers. They had just fixed his leg. Calm down. Besides, being stuck in a huge mansion -with a fountain, by the way- wasn't so bad, right?

"Until Sandy has deemed your leg well enough for you to be off on your own, yes, you are stuck here. As soon as he has cleared you, you'll be free to go whenever you wish."

"Oh," Jack huffed and crossed his arms. "I'm grateful, really, but I still want to know why you are doing this. I mean, you can't just be doing this out of the goodness of your heart. There's gotta be some hidden agenda." Jack narrowed his eyes. "What do you want?"

Pitch sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "Yes, I may seem like a heartless and cruel man. And yes, I have no love for children. But I do have compassion, Jackson. I was not going to let a child continue to wander the streets with a wound like yours."

"So, if a kid was just wondering around the streets, but without a giant dog bite, you'd just let them go and probably starve to death? Wow, such compassion." Jack sighed and rubbed his temples. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I'm just a little tired."

"No. You meant it, Jackson." Pitch grabbed another apple for himself and walked towards the door. "I will see the two of you at dinner tonight. It's time for me to get an infusion." The dark man left the kitchen.

Jack winced at Pitch's tone. He hadn't meant to upset the guy, he was just frustrated! The nightmares had been keeping him up for a while... Wait, what did he say? "Uh, what is he infusing? It doesn't sound healthy, or safe..."

North chuckled. "I cannot tell you the boss's business. But I can say that it is not drugs like you may think." He held up another plate. "You want more?"

"No, thank you." Jack answered. His curiosity was aroused as he pondered over Pitch's 'infusion'. What was it? Was there something wrong with him? Despite what North said, maybe he was a drug addict. But North didn't seem the type to lie, or tolerate drugs. Well, if Jack was going to stay here for a while, he was going to find out what that was! Who cares if it wasn't his business?

The big man shrugged, packing up the leftover food. "I will leave it here. If you get hungry before dinner, it will be in fridge, okay?"

"Okay, thanks. I think I'd better go back to the... my room." Jack smiled at the thought of having his own room again. He shuffled out of the kitchen and down the hall. He had just made it halfway when he realised that he had no idea where he was going.

"Damn it, why is this place so big? It's not like there are that many people here." He muttered. His eyes lit up when he noticed a door open slightly. He could faintly hear two voices arguing with each other. Sneaking as quietly as he could with his leg, Jack crouched just besides it. Now he could hear both men perfectly.

"I need new tools already!" One of them yelled. Jack frowned a little over his voice; something was wrong with it.

"Again? Have you already broken the tools that I just bought?" Another, smoother voice said. Jack quickly recognised that voice as Pitch's. "And they were a replacement, too. That was only a month ago."

"It's not my bloody fault!" There it was again! Maybe it was an accent? A weird one at that. "Someone, and I won't say who, borrowed my new tools and left them out in the rain! Now they're completely covered in rust."

Jack heard Pitch sigh. "Don't worry, I'll buy new ones. Oh, before you leave, I have to tell you about our new guest."

"New guest? You mean Sandy? You're a little late."

"No, I mean Jackson," Jack hissed as he overheard his name. "He-"

"Jackson? Who the hell's Jackson?" The rough accented voice interrupted. Maybe he was British? Nah, it was too rough.

"Jackson is a boy that I found wounded on the street early this afternoon. He'll be staying with us until his leg heals."

"Wounded? What happened to him?" Ugh, what was his accent!? Jack knew this!

"I think he should tell you that himself. Anyway, I suggest that you keep a close eye on your shed. Jackson doesn't seem too bright, but I have a suspicion that he has a fondness for jokes."

"Well, if he touches me shed, I'll rip the bugga a new one!" Australian! Obviously!

Jack could practically hear the smirk in Pitch's voice. "Of course, I won't be standing in your way. Anyway, shouldn't you be getting back to your vegetable garden?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going. My carrots are almost finished growing anyway." Jack quickly scrambled back as he heard someone, probably the Australian, thump towards the door. Panicked, Jack whipped one of the elegant curtains that hung at every window around him and held his breath as the man strode past him. He had only gotten a glimpse of curly brown hair.

'I wonder who this guy is? And what was so bad about messing with a shed...?' Jack grinned, another mystery he would have to solve. This was getting fun!

Jack slid out from behind the curtain and shuffled around the corner. He groaned as he thought of his current mystery; where the Hell was he?

"Oh, hello, Jack. I was just looking for you." Tooth looked up from her phone with a smile. "I have a new pair of pants for you and a few pair of shoes for you to try."

"Oh, shoes... Thanks, I guess." Jack scrunched his nose. He wasn't a big fan of shoes, his last pair always scrunched his feet together. That and both of his feet seemed to be different sizes from each other, and no size fit twice. This was going to be a little tough.

"Uh, I'm sorry, but the shoes probably won't fit. My feet are really weird."

"Don't be silly. That's why I brought a few different sizes so we can find one that fits."

"Oh, okay." Jack was a little surprised by her efficiency. As he sorted through the pairs of shoes, he asked her "You seem really nice, and happy. If you don't mind me asking, how did you end up working for a guy like Pitch?"

"You think he's a jerk, don't you? That he's just some rich guy who flaunts some money to get what he wants?" Tooth laughed. "But that's not what he's really like, I promise. He's actually a very thoughtful person. He runs the house firmly but not unfairly."

"A very thoughtful person? That's not what I'd say to describe him, but you do know him much better than me. And he did help me, so I guess he isn't all bad." Jack shrugged. "These shoes feel okay."

She smiled, handing him the pair of pants. "He's just a very private person. He rarely let's anybody close enough to really get to know him."

"Thanks," Jack said, taking the pants. "I guess I'll have to try and get to know him. Oh, uh," Jack blushed "Can you tell me where I'm staying? I'm a bit lost."

"Of course. It's right down this hallway." Tooth led him down the corridors to the room where they had taken care of his leg. The bed had been made properly now and all of Sanderson's medical supplies had been removed. "Here you are."

"Thank you, really, thanks! This is amazing! This room is huge. Seriously, there is a waterbed, in my own room!"

"It's only a guest room, Jack. This is nowhere near as grand as the actual decorated rooms." She chuckled, setting his bags down on top of the desk.

Jack raised his eyebrows. "A guest room? Wow, I can't imagine what the decorated rooms would look like." He laughed. "Honestly, I'd be more than happy just sleeping in the basement of this place!" His smile faded. "I'm not really going to have to sleep in the basement, am I?"

"No, no. Of course not. This will be where you sleep until you're all better." Tooth took out a few pair of pants from the bags and set them out on the bed. "I wasn't too sure what kind you would like or what your size was so I picked up a few choices. Are any of them alright for you?"

"Yeah, they look fine, thanks. I'll have to try them on, so..." Jack motioned slightly towards the door and blushed faintly.

"Oh! Of course. Just come find me if you need anything else. If you get lost, you can ask any of the employees and they can point you in the right direction. I hope your leg feels better, Jack." With a smile, Tooth ducked out of the room.

Jack left the pants on the corner of the bed. He would try them on later. Jack collapsed on the bed and smiled. 'I think I'm going to like it here.'


End file.
